


If One Will Fall, The Other Will Drop

by Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-29 08:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3888574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson/pseuds/Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Vladimir lay on the couch that night, staring at the ceiling. Surely, Anatoly had spoken with Fisk already? He would come home any moment.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>  <strong>Recommended listening//Inspiration ~ <em>What You Need</em> - Les Friction</strong></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Vladimir lay on the couch that night, staring at the ceiling. Surely, Anatoly had spoken with Fisk already? He would come home any moment.  
  
Vladimir looked at his phone again, frowning when there was no new message, no missed call, no vibrations to signify someone making contact. Anatoly would have called him the moment the talk was over, to tell Vladimir what was happening.  
  
_So where the hell was he?_  
  
Vladimir looked at the clock he could see through the kitchen doorway and winced. 3am? Where had the time gone.? He sighed and sat up, checking his phone again before calling Anatoly’s mobile. It rang. Once. Twice. Thrice.  
  
And then the line went dead.  
  
Maybe Anatoly had perhaps gone to a bar? Fisk had rejected their acceptance and Anatoly had chosen to get drunk before telling Vladimir? Maybe he had picked a woman up.  
  
He tried again.  
  
This time, it went straight to voicemail. Vladimir felt something unpleasant churning in his stomach and he struggled to get his words out. “’Toly, when you get this call me back, would you? Come on, brother, its 3am where are you?”  
  
He hung up and chucked his phone on the coffee table, staring at the ceiling before he drifted off to an uneasy sleep.  
  
//  
  
The door to his office opened and Vladimir looked around, almost growling when he spotted Wesley. What was he doing here? What could be so important he needed to come here and interrupt Vladimir when the mob was obviously busy?  
  
Anatoly had never been home, obviously, or Vladimir would have been woken up – and with no contact still, Vladimir had demanded an all city search.  
  
“What?”  
  
Wesley chuckled a little.  
  
“My employer wished to know how the income is coming along.”  
  
“Fisk can wait. I have more pressing matters.”  
  
To make his point, Vladimir got his phone out, dialling Anatoly’s number once more. Where the hell was he? He should have come back last night once he spoke to Fisk.  
  
Could something have happened to him?  
  
No.  
  
Anatoly knew how to take care of himself.  
  
Voice mail echoed around Vladimir’s head once more before he chucked his phone onto the desk.  
  
“What would this pressing matter be that it is so important that you can’t keep your promises to _my employer_?”  
  
Vladimir could have punched the man for his tone. At least he respected enough to stay quiet whilst Vladimir tried the phone.  
  
“My brother never came back from talking to Fisk last night. I am trying to get hold of him.”  
  
“Mr. Ranskahov is a big boy, Mr. Ranskahov. I’m sure he’s fine.”  
  
“Your sentiment is touching but I rather know where my brother is.”  
  
Another knock at the door had Vladimir rolling his eyes, listening to one of the men outside.  
  
“Что?”  
  
The door opened and one of Vladimir’s men walked in, glancing at Wesley.  
  
“Мы нашли Анатолий.”  
  
“Отлично. Принеситемоего братаздесь.”  
__  
The man looked behind him.  
  
“Perhaps- Sir, perhaps you might come with me?”  
  
Vladimir felt the unease in his stomach again as he rose from his chair, following Iosif out the room and down the stairs. He watched two men carrying something into the room and he began panicking. Shoving past Iosif, he ran into the room, only to stop dead in his tracks.  
  
Anatoly lay, dead, headless, on the table.  
  
Vladimir slowly moved forward, a single tear slipping from his eye as his hand reached out, resting on Anatoly’s chest.  
  
He could hear someone talking, but none of it made sense. The English words fell on deaf ears.  
  
_Я_ _должен был_ _его обратно_ _в Москву._  
  
Wesley cleared his throat.  
  
“My condolences.”  
  
“Fuck your condolences.”  
  
Vladimir’s hand fell limply from Anatoly’s chest before the soft bulge in his jacket pocket caught his attention. Shakily, he reached into it – _his blood was still damp_ – and tugged the Devil’s mask out of his pocket.  
  
“Iosif.”  
  
“Understood.”  
  
Wesley looked between the two men.  
  
“Understood?”  
  
“Fisk can wait.”  
  
Wesley opened his mouth.  
  
“This Devil dies. By my own hand. Now leave me.”  
  
Wesley didn’t move.  
  
“I SAID LEAVE ME.”  
  
The room emptied and Vladimir gently sunk to his knees, forehead pressed against Anatoly’s side before sobs erupted from his lips, his entire body shaking with the effort of staying upright. __  



	2. Chapter 2

Vladimir stared at the body, carefully running a wet rag across it. Little streams of faint red, almost pink, slid down the pale skin, and Vladimir had to clench his free first.  
  
“How could he do such a horrendous..?”  
  
Vladimir couldn’t even speak out loud. His thoughts were too loud, the room too silent.  
  
Nothing even felt real.  
  
“This has to be fake.”  
  
Vladimir was still waiting. For Anatoly to sit up. To walk out the shadows, laughing, just like they did as kids. For someone to jump out with cameras yelling about pranks and how they got him good.  
  
But nothing was happening.  
  
Sobs hit the Russian again and he ended up leaning over Anatoly’s chest, watching the tears dropping onto the skin. He stared at the tattoos, all so familiar. He’d be with Anatoly for every single one. His hand moved slowly, fingers tracing over the delicate drawings, staring at each drop of ink. Anatoly had despised tattoos when they were growing up.  
  
“Remember when, I had my first tattoo..?”  
  
//  
  
_Vladimir had been late home – really late home from school.  
  
Anatoly had long since been sent to bed yet had snuck into his brother’s room. He was curled up under the thick blankets, staring at the window. Vladimir never risked an argument late at night when Anatoly would be asleep.   
  
Sure enough, he eventually appeared, struggling to open the window. Anatoly had gotten up, pushing it open for him. Vladimir smiled lopsidedly, pulling himself in the window, landing lightly on his feet.  
  
“Thanks, Toly.”  
  
Anatoly smiled up at Vladimir, wrapping his arms tightly around his brother’s chest.  
  
“Where were you? Momma got worried.”  
  
“Promise me you won’t tell? I’m not telling Mom and Pops till it’s too late.”  
  
Anatoly tilted his head in curiosity, nodding. Vladimir smiled and moved over to the bed, tugging his shirt off. Clingfilm was stuck to the top of his shoulders and Anatoly could see lettering under it.  
  
“You got a tattoo?”  
  
Vladimir nodded, laughing a little.  
  
“Iosif and I hitched over to his cousin’s shop after school.”  
  
“Vlad! It’s hideous.”  
  
“Do you even know what it is?”  
  
“A tattoo.”  
  
“Oh God, you sound like Pops.”  
  
He sat on the bed, patting his lap. Anatoly easily slid onto his brother’s knees.  
  
“It says, _ life was a great adventure, why would death be any different, _to remember Grandpops.”  
  
Anatoly looked away, sniffing a little.  
  
“You need to stop listening to your rock bands.”  
  
Vladimir laughed and they both slipped under the covers.   
  
“Jeans, ‘Mir.”  
  
Vladimir rolled his eyes and kicked his jeans off, curling back up under the covers, falling asleep with his brother pressed into his side.  
  
_ //  
  
“I swear you were going to rat me out, Toly.”  
  
Vladimir had to look away, look around the room to distract himself.   
  
“This isn’t right. I’m the older one. I swore to Mom and Pops to look after you. I swore to them I would die before letting you get hurt and...”  
  
The tears broke again and Vladimir let them fall this time. He collapsed to his knees as the overwhelming realisation hit him.  
  
Anatoly wasn’t coming home this time.   
His little brother would never be by his side again.   
  
The bowl smashed as it landed next to him, the table fell over from how Vladimir leant on it and the sound of footsteps echoed down the outside hallway. No doubt Iosif was coming to check on him. The door creaked open slightly and Vladimir didn’t even try to hide his grief.  
  
His hands curled in his hair, and the sobs made ugly noises as they left his mouth. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see, he couldn’t hear anything. A hand was on his shoulder, but Vladimir pushed whoever it was away.  
  
“I SAID TO LEAVE ME.”  
  
His breathing was out of control and as he tried to stand, he fell back down. There was suddenly a haze of noise; the only word Vladimir could pick out was _hyperventilating_ and there was something over his mouth. He couldn’t see, everything was swimming.  
  
Suddenly, there was air on his face and Vladimir took breath. Someone was behind him and he gladly leaned against them. He didn’t care if his men saw him as weak. He couldn’t care anymore.  
  
What mattered now that Anatoly was gone?  
  
His eyes closed at someone’s instruction and he listened closely. _Iosif_.  
  
His chest started rising and falling properly, breaking him from a dangerous haze and slowly, he opened his eyes. They darted around the room, taking in faces.  
  
Iosif. Nikolai. Alexandre.   
  
Wesley.  
  
What the hell was Wesley doing here?  
  
If there was something Vladimir hated most, it was that man. If there was something he hated more, it was the pity and worry reflecting in his eyes. Alexandre stood.  
  
“What do you want?”  
  
“We... We found the Devil...”

**Author's Note:**

> Что – What?  
> Мы нашли Анатолий – We found Anatoly  
> Отлично. Принесите моего брата здесь. – Excellent. Bring him in.  
> Я должен был его обратно в Москву. – I should have taken him back to Moscow.


End file.
